


Fics originally posted on DRC

by gatcombepark



Category: British Royalty RPF
Genre: F/M, fuck you too tumblr!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 17:28:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16837144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatcombepark/pseuds/gatcombepark
Summary: DRC is almost definitely going to be wiped off the fucking planet due to the no-nsfw Tumblr update coming in a few weeks, so I'm saving my fics from there to allow y'all to still read them. Please bear in mind that:- most of these are much older than the works here and it shows in their quality- some of them are WIPs I never finished





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sea_Dukes_Assistant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sea_Dukes_Assistant/gifts).



Anne stood beside the bed and gazed at Tim. He lay face-down with his knees tucked under him, completely bare except for a blindfold and the rope tying his hands together behind his back. In a stark contrast, Anne looked darkly sexy in a brassiere, elbow length gloves and garter belt all made from black leather trimmed with lace, with tall stiletto boots over fishnet stockings stretching up her slender, well muscled legs. She smiled to herself as she ran her fingers gently along the length of her riding crop.

Suddenly she steeled her expression, reached out and smacked Tim on the ass with it. He jumped, and gave a cry of equal portions anguish and ecstasy. Anne wound up and smacked again. Tim wailed.

Anne slid her hand into Tim’s dark hair and slowly, agonizingly tightened her grip. He hissed sharply as she raised the crop once more and began repeatedly, rhythmically slapping it against his quickly reddening buttocks. Between moans, he managed to pant out a few words: “I… don’t think… I can take… much more…”

“Is that so?” Anne murmured as she continued without relent. “Perhaps we should find out just how far you CAN go.”

“No… please…”

Anne refused to let up. Only on her terms would they proceed.

Finally, she decided she was ready to move forward. She gently untied Tim’s hands and laid him on his back. Deftly straddling him, she drew his hands up over his head and retied them, this time to the headboard. For a moment she paused, a quiet look of longing on her face. Setting her jaw, she removed his blindfold.

Tim felt his already strained erection begin to throb as his eyes came into focus and he stared up at his incredibly sexy wife. Breathing deeply, he closed his eyes and smiled with pleasure- but his reverie was interrupted by Anne’s firm grip on his shoulder.

“No, Timothy. Keep your eyes open. I want you to watch me fuck you senseless.”

She carefully lowered herself onto him and began to grind away…


	2. Chapter 2

Timothy Laurence bit his lip, trying discreetly to distract himself. From the moment he had entered the chapel for the Garter Knight service that morning, he had known he was a goner, but the service was almost over and he wouldn’t be able to keep his mounting hard-on out of sight by crossing his legs much longer. Bother.

He glanced back over at his wife. Somehow, Anne’s creamy complexion seemed more flawless than ever, her lips redder, her smile wider than it had been in months. Even the silly, foppish Garter regalia looked stunning on her. Was it actually possible to be this attracted to a woman? He hadn’t thought so before he met her, but over twenty years later she still seemed to be growing more beautiful with every day. Sometimes he wondered what a woman like her, who could have any man she wanted in the world, had ever seen in him.

This line of thought had done nothing to ease the strain on his trousers, and the service was ending. Trying his hardest to think of the most unsexy things in the world, he shielded the suspect area with a program and stood. Taking care to stay close behind his wife and out of sight of the photographers, he made his way out to the waiting carriage and immediately crossed his legs again.

The ride back to the Upper Ward of Windsor seemed to drag on forever. Through all the waving and smiling, Tim could only think about one thing. It seemed Anne sensed it, as she quietly squeezed his hand before getting out of the carriage.

Tim followed closely behind her, and the moment they were alone, he fell upon her with kisses and caresses, feeling himself sinking deeper and deeper. Suddenly, she stopped him.

“Not here! We need to get back to St. James’…”

“Anne, there are hundreds of rooms in this castle. I’m sure we can find at least one that has a bed in it and is unoccupied. Besides, I need you now.”

With that, he led her off down the hallway towards one of the empty suites normally reserved for visitors. The moment they crossed the threshold, his hands returned to her waist and her lips to his.

Pausing momentarily, she reached up to take off his hat. “You know,” she mused, holding it in front of her, “you’re pretty cute when you’re turned on.”

"Get that silly thing out of my way.” Grumbling to himself, he took the hat from her and cast it aside, removing her hat as well before returning to her arms. With one hand, he took the clip out of her hair, and buried his face in its soft lengths as they fell down around her shoulders. He slid the barrette into his pocket, not wanting either of them to accidentally step on it later.

Pulling back momentarily, he cradled her face in his hands. She was still grinning from ear to ear, and the thought crossed his mind that she had never looked more beautiful to him than in that moment. Stroking her cheek, he leaned down and kissed her on the lips again, then the cheek, and then on the neck. She whimpered as he continued- her neck and shoulders always had been her weak spot. Get that far and you’ve got her for the rest of the night.

Finding the Garter robe to be in his way, he gently undid the closure and pulled it off her shoulders to reveal a little white dress that hugged her slender form in all the right places. It didn’t take much work to find the zipper and so the dress was soon off her as well.

Tim slid out of his coattails and as his mouth moved lower to find his wife’s shoulders, he felt her unfastening buttons and loosening his tie. Within moments, her brassiere and his waistcoat and shirt lay discarded on the floor. He gently picked up Anne and carried her to the bed.

Once she was lying down, he shifted focus to her ample breasts. He cupped each one in his hands, kissing and caressing it with his fingers and tongue until he felt the nipples harden. He paused for a moment with his face buried in her bosom, breathing in her perfume and feeling incredibly lucky to be hers.

Moving onward, he trailed kisses down her body towards her center. Gently, he brushed her clitoris with his tongue; feeling her press towards him, he gently slid his fingers into her, realizing in the process that she was soaking wet. He was rewarded with the feeling of her heels -the only clothing she still had on- digging into his back, painful and wonderful all at the same time.

He began to pleasure her, working her clit with his tongue while stroking inside her with his fingers. She tensed up even harder, and he reached up with his other hand to take hers. Giving it a squeeze, he kissed her clit. “Relax, darling. It feels even better if you just let go.”

She tugged on his hand, pulling him back up so his face was even with hers. “Now, Timothy.” It came out as a choked whisper. With a gentle kiss to her cheek, he stepped out of his shoes and undid his trousers, pulling them off with his underwear.

“Please, Timothy…”

Kissing her again for good measure, he slid inside of her and slowly began to move. She reached her legs up to wrap them around his waist, and he picked her up off the bed and cradled her in his arms. Bracing her back against the wall, he began to thrust into her, firmly and deeply but still with his inherent gentleness. It wasn’t long before she was screaming his name, her head thrown back and her eyes closed in ecstasy. Gently guiding her back down to Earth, he felt the warmth of his own climax coming and gave himself over to the white light…

When he came back around, they were lying in a tangled heap on the bed, with her head on his chest. Gently stroking her hair, he kissed the top of her head, then nuzzled it. “I love you, Anne…”

“I love you too, Tim.” Cuddling up together,they closed their eyes and fell into a deep, relaxed sleep.

-Anonymous


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1/2 chapters in an unfinished WIP

May 1996, Tim is back from deployment in the Balkan conflict NATO force and he has a mighty need. I have no idea how the house at Gatcombe is laid out, so I’m assuming that, as with most of the houses I’ve been to, the formal dining room is near the main entrance.

*********************************

I sat at the table, reading my book and nibbling on the cheese I’d taken from the kitchen as a snack. The rest of the house had gone to bed some time ago, but Tim was coming back tonight and I was determined to greet him properly. At the moment, however, it was becoming something of a struggle to stay awake.

Finally, I heard the car coming down the driveway and the key turning in the lock. Forgetting my exhaustion, I nearly ran to the door to greet him. As soon as he crossed the threshold, he swept me up in a warm embrace, kissing me as if he were starved.

“Anne… how I’ve missed you… it’s so good to be home…”

“Tim.” I tucked my face against his shoulder, breathing in his scent and just relishing the feeling of having him close again. I had almost forgotten his gentle touch, the feel of his body against mine, during those long months of waiting.

He kissed me again, this time slow and passionate. It tasted the same as always, sweet and spicy… with a hint of something years dead and utterly terrible? What were they serving in the ship’s mess? “I imagine it will be nice to finally have some decent food again.”

“Try though they might, nothing that comes out of a can is going to taste nice. It’s good to be back home.” Unperturbed by the interruption, he returned to kissing me. Home. It hadn’t really been home since he had left.

“It’s good to have you back home.” I kissed him back passionately and felt my need begin to rise, like embers of a spent fire suddenly finding new fuel. At the same time, I felt him begin to stiffen against my leg. Carefully, I steered us out of the entryway and back into the dining room where I had been waiting. I hopped up to sit on the edge of the table and pulled him in close to me.

As he returned to kissing me, I slipped my hand down the front of his trousers and began to stroke his growing hard-on. My reward was a redoubling of his efforts while he simultaneously attacked the zipper of my dress. To give credit where credit is due, he kept his focus in spite of the distraction I must have been causing him, and the dress was soon on the floor, along with everything else I’d had on.

Wait a second. I was sitting stark naked on the dinner table. “Tim? What are you doing?”

"I am going to have you - here - now - on this table,” he growled, “and there is nothing you can do to stop me.”

Fuuuuuuuuuck. Not that I wanted to stop him in the least. I love it when he takes control and ravishes me almost as much as I love doing it to him. Since my hands were already down there, I helped his trousers and underwear off. “Well, come on, then,” I breathed in his ear.

He took hold of my waist, and for just a moment everything stood completely still.

Suddenly, he thrust into me, not roughly, but with all the frustration and longing of the past months as plaintively evident as if he’d spoken it to me. Reaching up, I ran my fingers through his thick, black hair, relishing more and more of him as he continued to pound away.

“Tim… I’ve missed you so much…” I closed my eyes and let the feelings take over for a moment- the hard wood of the table against my back, the buttons on his jacket (in our hurry, it had never come off) scraping against my skin, and him, filling me completely, both physically and metaphorically. “Tim…”

He leaned down to kiss me, first on the cheek, then trailing off down my neck and shoulder. When he reached my collarbone, he set his head down on my shoulder. After a moment, it started to feel a little wet, and I realized he was crying. “Tim?” I ran my fingers through his hair again.

“Do you have any idea… (sob)… how lonely I’ve been… (sob)… how much I’ve needed you?” The tears were now streaming down his cheeks. “Do you have any idea?”

"Timothy. Look at me.” He slowly turned his gaze up to mine. Our eyes met, and in that moment we understood each other perfectly, with no need for any words.

Suddenly, it all came to a head and we were both gone. As my climax shook me from head to toe, I felt him lose himself deep inside me, and it felt as if waves of love and passion and emotion were crashing down around us. Holding on to him as if for dear life, I slowly came down from the high.

After a few moments’ recovery to regain his breath, he slid his arms around me and picked me up, still kissing and caressing the whole way. “Tim? Where are we going?”

“Upstairs, to the bedroom. But not to sleep. I’m not through with you yet.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him again as he began to take the stairs two at a time…


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> unfinished WIP 2/2

“Tim…” I leaned against his shoulder as he strode down the long hallway to our bedroom. In my slowly lifting post-orgasmic fog, it felt as if I was melting into him. “Timothy…”

Opening the door, he dipped his head down to kiss me. “Yes, love?”

“Nothing, I just… mmmmmm…” I cuddled my head even closer to him and closed my eyes. Everything felt so blithely wonderful, and I could feel my exhaustion beginning to catch up with me. How nice it would be to fall asleep safe in his arms…

At the same time, though, I still wanted more. I sleepily reached across his chest and began unbuttoning his jacket. Smiling, he set me down on the bed and finished the job himself, casting jacket, shirt, tie and undershirt across the room as he returned his attention to me. Lying down next to me, he cradled my head against his shoulder and buried his nose in my hair. “I’ve missed you.”

“You told me. Quite emotionally, as I recall.”

“Well, it’s kind of a big deal to me. And I keep finding all these other things about you I’d missed that I had forgotten to mention. Like the way your hair smells, so sweet and flowery…”

I smiled. “I’ve missed you too, darling.” Reaching up, I took his face in my hands and kissed him again, deep and slow and full of longing. It felt like hours before we came up for air, but still too short. Feeling the heat building back up, I kissed him again, harder.

“Calm down dear, it’s going to be a few minutes before I can go around again…”

“Sounds like a personal problem.” Once you get me started, it’s hard to get me to stop.

“Now that I think about it, I did have… Hang on, dear, I’ll be right back.” Tossing on a dressing gown, he left the room. I heard his footsteps going back down the staircase as I pulled the covers in around me, my body protesting more than a little at the sudden loss of his warmth.

Luckily, he wasn’t gone long. He returned with our clothes from downstairs, now neatly folded, and the bags he had abandoned immediately upon stepping through the door. He reached into one and pulled out a bottle of something- I couldn’t quite make out the label in the dim light.

“Tim? What is that?”

“You’ll find out soon enough.” He grinned devilishly at me. “I stopped by the store on the way home to grab a little, erm, snack.” He pulled the covers back off me, fluffed a pillow and gently placed it under my head.

“You don’t mean to…”

“Indeed I do.” Momentarily, he set the bottle on the nightstand so he could take the dressing gown back off and I glanced over at it. Chocolate syrup. I inhaled sharply as I realized exactly what was about to happen.

“This is a new bottle, so it hasn’t been in the refrigerator- hopefully it won’t be too cold. But if it is, let me know- I’m sure I can find some way to warm you up.” That impish grin again. Jesus, Tim, a little mercy?

He popped open the top of the bottle and began to drizzle it across my waiting body. Curving and waving all over my skin, a rosette here, a curlicue there- it was obvious he was getting quite a lot of enjoyment out of the act. To be honest, I was as well- the feeling of it dripping onto my body and running down my curves was quite sensual on its own, and the hungry look on Tim’s face just added to the fun. When he decided that I was satisfactorily covered in chocolate, he set the bottle back on the nightstand and stepped back to admire his work.

"Well. It seems I’ve made quite a mess. How on Earth will I ever clean this up?”

I gave him a pointed look. Get on with it!

“I suppose I could go get some towels and wipe it off…”

Stop dragging your ass! Are you going to do this or not?

“Or you could just go take a shower… although you’d have to be careful not to drip on your way…”

“Get down here and lick it off me, are you daft?!”

“I’m sorry, Anne, I couldn’t quite hear you. What is it you want me to do?”

I grabbed his arm and pulled him down so his face was within inches of mine. “I… want you… to lick every last drop of this chocolate off my body… and I want you to love every minute of it.”

“What chocolate? This chocolate?” he asked, as he slowly drew his tongue across my shoulder. “Or did you mean this chocolate?” He sucked at a droplet between my breasts.

“I said all of it, and I meant all of it, and you’d better get on with it.”

“Oh, well if that’s how it’s going to be…” He lazily ran his tongue down a line stretching from my shoulder to my hip, and I shuddered with pleasure at the sensation. Turning with the line, he came back up towards my neck, stopping at my breast to give it some extra attention. As he continued licking, nibbling and sucking his way across me, it felt as if his tongue was awakening every nerve in my body, one by one.

All too soon, he was nearly finished… but I had an idea on how to make this last a little longer. I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the bottle of syrup. After checking that the top was still open, I squeezed more out onto myself.

“Tim, I think you missed a spot.”

He didn’t even glance up from what he was doing. “Oh, I’m quite sure I took care to get everything.”

“No, you definitely missed a spot.” I drew more lines crossing my chest, making smaller and smaller turns around my nipples just like I wanted his tongue to do. As Tim lapped up the last drops that he had spread on me, he finally raised his head and, seeing what I had done, inhaled sharply.

“Oh…” He immediately went back to work, his mouth pulling all sorts of delightful sensations out of my skin. Soon enough, he had again gotten almost everything, but this time, I was ready. Starting from right under his nose, I drew a line curling and curving all over myself. Tim ran his tongue down it trying to keep up, and it turned into a game of sorts- me doing everything I could to throw him off or force him to spend more time on one little spot, him trying his hardest to catch and keep up with me.

Finally he did, and he grabbed the bottle and took it from me. “Alright, that’s enough of this!” Laughing, I pulled him in close to me and hugged him.

“What, you don’t like our little game of tag?”

“I’m just afraid you’re not going to quit until the bottle’s empty, and I’d rather not get sick!” he replied, smiling.

“Well, do you think you can handle just a bit more?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because.” I grabbed the bottle back out of his hand. “I’m not quite done.” I opened my mouth and lazily poured some in. “Come and get it.”

“Much obliged.” He slipped his arms around me, kissing me deeply and softly. His taste mingled with the taste of the chocolate and everything else just melted away. I reached my hands up to his shoulders and held on.

As he finally broke the kiss, I stroked his arm. The work of deployment had really done wonders for his muscle tone. “Mmmm. I like this. We can keep this. Definitely.” I ran my finger down his chest and abs. “These too. Are you… back yet?”

“Does this answer your question?” He pressed his hips against me, and I could feel him against me, already hard again. Excellent.

“That was quick.” But really, who’s complaining? “Lucky me.” I flip him on to his back and hop astride. “Now I’m going to give you a proper welcome home…”

*** THREE WEEKS LATER ***

I stared at the tile on the wall of my bathroom, feeling a little sick to my stomach. Could this really be happening? Maybe it’s not right. They’re not always right…

But I still have to tell him.

TO BE CONTINUED


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Lala wrote this one)

Tim stretched his legs out in the back of the Land Rover. He still couldn’t believe that after twenty years, his wife had finally managed to talk him into wearing a kilt for their annual trip to the Braemar Games. Well, there was a first time for everything. But she certainly seemed hung up on some ridiculously long list of unwritten rules on how to wear it properly…

“Tim! Keep your knees together!” Anne gave his thigh a shove as she slid into the seat beside him.

“Why?”

“Because you should! You’re wearing a kilt!”

“So?”

“Everyone is going to be looking up it and when they see what you’re packing they’re all going to want a piece of it! Don’t you remember what happened with Daddy a few years ago?”

“Well it’s not like I’d *mind* some attention from the ladies…”

“If you are so far out of your mind as to think for one second that I would let them anywhere near you…”

“Maybe you don’t get to make this decision!”

“That’s it! Your naughty little arse is going to be FEELING that mistake tonight!”

Her words rang through his head over and over… he was indeed feeling it. The riding crop hadn’t been brought out in a while - of course, that was one of his main reasons for testing her in the first place. She’d been at this for a while, and he was fairly sure his backside was redder than a traffic light at this point - though you wouldn’t ever catch him complaining.

As soon as they had made it safely back into their home and into their bedroom, she had leapt on him, pressing his back hard against the door, her hands holding tightly to his hips.

“And so the game begins,” he had thought to himself, trying his hardest to fight the grin that was threatening to spread across his face.

All the while Anne’s eyes had had a lustful glint; her telltale smirk said everything.

“Now is my naughty little boy ready for his punishment?”

He was certain that the twitch in his pants was the only answer she needed.

WHACK!

The harsh smack against his backside brought him reeling back to the present. He flinched, and the appreciative groan that came from Anne was not lost to his ears. No doubt she was smirking with delight. Burying his face into the pillow, he fought back a moan at the thought.

Anne rubbed her hand soothingly over his arse as she watched him squirm. He was loving this, as always. She slowly trailed her fingers up his back to his hands, bound at the headboard.

One swift tug and his hands were untied. With a rough heave, Anne flipped him on his back. Tim grinned up at his wife once he got a good look at her. Her hair was down, falling loosely below her shoulders, and she was wearing only a light blue silk robe that came to mid thigh and a pair of black knickers.

“Has naughty Timmy learned his lesson?” Anne asked, cocking her head to the side as she ran her hand down his heaving chest. She pursed her lips waiting for an answer.

“Yes.” Tim groaned as her hand moved downwards towards his penis. He let out an even louder moan once he felt her take hold of him, hips jumping upwards at her touch.

“Of course he has,” she agreed. She gave him a few quick pumps before backing away to drop her robe and take off her knickers.

When she returned, she straddled his lap quickly, leaning down to face level with him. Her hair fell gently over his face as she whispered, “Yes, of course he has, because Timmy knows what he gets when he’s good, doesn’t he?”

Tim could only nod at the question as she slammed herself down on his cock, both of their moans mingling as she rode him slowly.

“Yes, Anne… fuck!” he yelled out, throwing his head back against the pillow. Their eyes locked as she continued to grind against him.

She couldn’t help the smirk on her face as she watched him begin to fall apart. Anne roughly ran a hand through his thick hair, tousling it and gently pulling it.

“Yes, you’re my good little boy, aren’t you?” Her voice grew lusty as she watched his face contort in pleasure.

"I’m a good boy, I’m.. I-I’m a good boy,” he repeated over and over, barely able to force the words out as rapture began to overtake him. His hands grabbed hold of her hips, urging her to move faster against him, his hips pounding upwards against hers.

It wasn’t long before they cried out with release, Anne laying against his chest, both breathing heavily.

Anne looked at him through heavy eyes, her long hair framing her face perfectly. “I love you, Timothy.”

“I love you too, Anne,” he whispered, kissing her gently on the lips.

They laid curled up against each other the rest of the night. As he fell into a calm, contented sleep, Tim couldn’t help but think that maybe he should test her more often.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fic description notwithstanding I consider this the best smut I've ever written

The elevator doors opened and my wife strode off down the hall. “Hurry up,” she hissed back at me, “we don’t have much time!” I jogged the few steps it took me to catch up with her, scanned the key card and opened the door to our hotel room.

Scarcely had we gotten inside and the lock settled on the latch when she pushed me up against the wall of the entryway. Running her hands into my hair, she pulled my face down to hers. As she roughly attacked my lips with her sweet, soft mouth, I felt myself beginning to come untied.

One of her arms slipped down to my waist, pushing me down further. I started to wonder why, but didn’t get very far with that line of thought, as she chose that moment to grind her hips up against mine.

Suddenly, I was very, very hard. Fuck, Anne.

She wasted no time getting right down to business. Dropping down to her knees, she unzipped my trousers and yanked them down along with my underwear. And then the sweet, soft mouth, that only moments before had been kissing me, was wrapped around my cock.

Fuck, Anne.

“You don’t have to do this… you said we don’t have much time…”

“Tim, it’s okay. This won’t take long, don’t worry.”

“Okay, but I don’t want you to…” She took me back in her mouth, this time all the way to her throat. “FUCK, Anne! … Okay, I do, but not as much as I want to actually have sex with you.”

"Oh, Tim, I think you misunderstood me. We don’t have time for that until after dinner. I do have to get cleaned up and such. Now will you please just let me suck you off?”

How the hell am I supposed to argue with that? “Please.”

She turned her attention back to my dick and took me back in her mouth. As she moved her head up and down, I felt her trace the veins with the tip of her tongue. Then she backed off to just the head and teased me, sucking gently and flicking her tongue against it.

It was almost embarrassing, how quickly my body responded. By the end of two minutes, I was already on the edge and straining. At least getting done in a hurry was the goal.

She plunged her head back down all the way and deep-throated me, and that was the end. Before I had even processed what she had done, I was coming.

“FUCK, ANNE!“ I didn’t care if the whole hotel heard. Feeling her swallow and then lick me clean, I shuddered with pleasure.

She pulled a lipstick out of her pocket, the same dark red that was now all over my cock. (Fuck, Anne.) After she refreshed her lips, she kissed me lightly on the hip and then looked up at me. “Tonight?”

"Tonight.” I zipped myself back up and slipped into the lav to freshen up and try to get my racing mind under control. Once I had decided that no evidence of the last few minutes remained on my clothes or my expression, I stepped back outside, taking the key with me.

The aide met me at the door. “Are you alright, sir? Do you need anything?”

“I’m just fine, thank you. Though you might ask after my wife- I think she just set an Olympic record.”

“What in?”

I just smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

Okay, I’m sorry but this one has a shit-ton of backstory, please bear with me:

In Australia, there’s kind of an ongoing debate over what will happen upon QEII’s death. Some people want the British monarchy to no longer be recognized as the head of state and the country to become a republic, while some want Charles to pick up right where his mother left off. There is a third, extremely small fringe group called the British Australian Community that suggests a compromise by making Anne (and eventually Peter and Savannah) the Antipodean monarch under the dominion of the Commonwealth and thus effectively splitting the Australian monarchy off from the British monarchy. This fanfic exists in a universe where this has occurred and the decision was made early enough to allow Anne to accede to the Australian throne immediately upon her mother’s passing. So she is the Queen, she just has not been crowned (coronated?) yet.

Of course, with the establishment of a new monarchy comes new traditions. An entire new set of Coronation regalia has been made specifically for the Australian throne, including the Antipodean State Crown. And perhaps Queen Anne and her Prince Consort are going to start their own tradition of how said consort earns the title. This also grew partially out of a story Prince Charles told about how his mother wore the extremely heavy St. Edward’s Crown around the house while preparing for the coronation to get used to its weight. (As in, where else do you suppose she was wearing it?)

I would like to thank Lala (mistmountaindreamer) for her help and inspiration and I’m trying to work on the other stuff, however slowly it’s coming along. Soon.

Warning: while it’s physically tame, there is a good bit of psychological dominance going on in this one (like you’re shocked considering it’s Anne). Also, the whole of it is probably more than a little sacrilegious by nature of the location. So if either of those are not your thing you should probably steer clear.

**************************************

Anne stood in St. Andrew’s Cathedral, Sydney, on the dais that held the throne for the coming week’s coronation. The Antipodean State Crown glittered upon her head, the orb and scepter held firmly yet delicately in her grip. The rehearsal finally finished, she returned the regalia- except the Crown- to its bearers and spoke to one of the ever present aides.

“I would like a few minutes alone with my consort, once everyone else has cleared out. No one is to disturb us for any reason. Please see to it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded, and hurried off to inform the other aides and protection officers that they would be waiting outside a while yet. Once the remainder of the party had left, she turned to her husband, standing in the nave a few yards in front of the dais.

“Get down on your knees, Tim,” Anne said sternly.

Timothy raised an eyebrow at his wife as she walked towards him, the jewels of the Crown flashing in the light.

He knew this game, his Princess- no, she was his Queen now- wanted to play rough and dirty. Well if she wanted to play, he would. After all, she did know how much he enjoyed being dominated by her.

Anne let a smirk spread across her features.

“I said, kneel before your Queen, Timothy,” she commanded in an authoritative voice.

Tim felt a shiver run straight to his groin at his wife’s tone. Getting down on his knees in front of her, he slowly ran his hands around her waist.

"Yes, your majesty,” Tim whispered, leaning in to place a few chaste kisses across her abdomen.

He looked up at her with a small grin on his face.

“How may I please you, my Queen?” Tim asked, sliding his hands down the front of her thighs.

Anne leaned down closer to him, roughly combing her fingers through his salt and pepper hair, pressing his face against her.

"Now that’s my good little Prince.” He was ready for her game to begin. Drawing back up to her full height, she returned to the dais and sat on the throne, the very image of a regal Sovereign. After a long pause, she spoke.

“The Crown desires to know who has requested an audience with us. Pray state your name and intent.”

“Sir Timothy Laurence, Your Majesty; I am but a common man, made a knight by the grace of Her Majesty, the late Queen Elizabeth II. I seek to prove myself worthy of the title of Prince Consort to Your Majesty by doing your bidding, providing for your every need and satisfying your every desire.” His words, spoken almost as one would a prayer, echoed in the vast, empty cathedral.

“Very well, we grant you permission to approach us in a posture of deference and genuflection to your Sovereign.”

Tim stood, keeping his head bowed, and took a step towards Anne.

“No.” One ice-cold word from her, and he froze. “As we said. Adopt a posture of genuflection.” He raised his head just enough to send her a questioning glance. “Crawl, Timothy. And keep your eyes averted from us until we give you permission to look.” Everything about her shamed him for having to ask, from the look of uninterested derision on her face to her scathing tone. Dropping to his hands and knees, he focused on the floor inches from his nose and, reddening, began to move forward. When he had ascended the dais, he let his head fall to the floor, kissing the ground in front of her feet.

"It brings me the greatest pleasure to pledge my service to Your Majesty. My only desire is to indulge your wishes by whatever means necessary.”

“Rise, Timothy, and demonstrate your devotion with a kiss upon our cheek.” He did as he was told. “Now prove your fealty by submitting yourself wholly and entirely to our need.”

Again, he knelt before her, but this time he did not drop to his hands, instead running them up her legs. She stopped him with the heel of her shoe on his chest, pushing him back and away. His mind raced, trying to determine what his mistake had been.

“Did we grant you permission to touch us? A mere commoner, to lay hands upon his Sovereign?”

Humiliated by his mistake, he bowed his head. “Your Majesty, I apologize most profusely for my error and beg for your benevolent forgiveness. Might I be allowed to lay hands and lips upon you as necessary to satisfy your needs?”

Anne turned her gaze to where he knelt, this giant of a man completely submitted, like putty in her hands. She took pity upon him. “Our forgiveness is granted, and our permission is yours. Now do as you have been told.” With a thankful murmur, he returned his hands to her legs, running them up under her skirt. Her dress for the coronation would doubtless be long and heavy, but for the rehearsal she had chosen a simple blouse and knee length skirt, and so her underwear was easily off. Tim’s head disappeared inside her skirt, his tongue pleasing her with a delicate, practiced sureness. She closed her eyes and relished the feeling, clinging tightly to the throne upon which she sat.

Finally, it grew to be too much, and she pulled away- gently this time, with an air of satisfaction rather than disappointment. Fighting to maintain her detached, regal air, she spoke.

“Timothy. Look at us.”

He turned his face expectantly up to her, a smile teasing at the corner of his mouth.

“You have pleased us with your service, and it is our desire that you reap the fruits of your efforts. We grant you our permission to indulge yourself, though it is expected you continue to provide for our enjoyment as well.”

Regardless of the flowery language, her meaning was clear. Quickly, he shed his clothing and the rest of hers before taking her into his embrace. As he made love to her, she whispered her demands into his ear, and he followed her orders like the obedient servant he was. His reward was her increasingly passionate exclamations of ecstasy, her rapture like music to his ears.

When it seemed as if she could take no more, she looked him in the eye and spoke to him as an equal, the game at an end, the charade gone.

“Timothy. Please. Follow me.” It was simple and plaintive.

“Anywhere, my darling Queen.”

Seconds later, they both came, holding on to each other for dear life. As Anne came down from her high, she kissed him on the forehead.

“Well done, Timothy. Go forth in the knowledge that I shall proclaim you a worthy and faithful consort to all the world. And put your clothes on, we’ve got places to be.” She grinned at him as he shot her a wink and did as he was told.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim gives Anne a birthday present and a suggestion on how to use it.

“Happy birthday, love.” Tim handed his wife her last present of the day, a private one just between them. She opened the box to reveal what was inside. It was a vibrator, but not like any she had ever seen before: the material was smooth and almost soft to the touch, the shape sleek and so small it nearly fit in her palm, and the color a beautiful shade of turquoise blue. It was also unusually powerful- she switched it on momentarily, and the surprisingly strong vibrations nearly sent it flying out of her hand.

“Wow,” she murmured, “it’s incredible. Thank you. I’m going to have a lot of fun with this.” She grinned at her husband.

“Actually, Anne, I wanted to ask you about that. I know you like to keep your ‘private time’… well, private, but I was hoping that you would let me watch you use this one. At least the first time, anyways. Can we give it a try?”

“Well… okay. I don’t really see why not. Might as well do it tonight, too.”

Tim smiled with glee. “Now?”

“Yes, let’s go ahead; we were about to head on up to bed anyway, weren’t we?”

* * *

When they walked into the bedroom, Tim grabbed a chair from out in the hall and set it a few feet inside the doorway. “I figured you should have the bed.”

“Oh, bless your generosity.” Anne rolled her eyes, but she kept smiling. “Well, go on and sit down then.”

Tim did as he was told, and immediately set to work on his zipper. He had himself in hand and was already half-hard when Anne realized what he was doing.

"Oh, no, mister. That’s not how tonight is going to go. Take your shirt and trousers off, but put your pants back on and sit still.” She dug around in the trunk they jokingly termed the “toy chest” until she found what she was looking for: a rope, precisely three feet long and neatly folded after the last use. As she tied his hands together behind the chair, she spoke again. “I didn’t say you could sit and have a wank like you’re watching some porno. I said you could watch, and watch is all you’re going to do.” Tim looked up at her, the frustration plainly evident on his face, but knowing what was good for him, he remained silent.

"I also think I ought to be wearing something a little more appropriate to the occasion, don’t you?” She disappeared into the closet and reemerged a few minutes later in the sexiest lingerie Tim had ever seen. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, trying to control himself.

“Timothy, you said you wanted to watch. Keep your eyes open.” He obeyed and took in the sight before him. She stood there, regal as ever, in a brassiere and garter belt made of red satin and black lace, with black stockings stretching up her shapely legs and a black chiffon robe that seemed to float behind her on some impossible breeze. How absurd, he thought, that anyone could ever deign to call this woman ugly. They have no idea what they’re missing.

Once she felt confident that the full effect of the scene had sunk in, she retreated to the bed and got to work. The robe was quickly shed and hung over the footboard, leaving what seemed like miles and miles of her creamy skin on display. She fluffed and arranged a few pillows, turned down the covers, laid a towel over the sheets (ever the pragmatist) and slid into bed. The pillows supported her so that she was almost in a sitting position, but able to tip her head back. After a moment to collect herself, she began.

It didn’t surprise Tim that his wife chose not to reach for the vibrator straight away. What he hadn’t expected, however, was that her foreplay ritual was almost as meticulous as his own careful work at seducing her. She caressed her own cheeks, then her neck and shoulders, before gently cupping her breasts, squeezing them and toying with the nipples until they hardened. Was she thinking of him, or caught up in a world of pleasure all her own?

She continued to play with one breast while her other hand wandered down between her legs. Her fingers gently brushed the inside of her thighs before coming to rest cupping her mons. Moaning softly, she began to stroke her clit, slowly at first but steadily speeding up. Tim watched with rapture as she finally picked up the toy and turned it on.

The vibrator wasn’t very loud- just a gentle hum- but it was evidently enough, as Anne shuddered with pleasure the moment she touched it to herself. She teased and played with her clit using the tip, and, unsurprisingly, she was soon at the edge- but she didn’t go over it. She turned down the power a bit and slid it inside herself with a gasp. The gentle curve of the toy’s shaft, designed to help the user easily find her G spot, was obviously making itself known.

it didn’t take many of her careful, slow strokes before she was almost there again, biting her lip and breathing raggedly. More than anything, Tim wanted to walk over to her, chair and all, and finish her off himself, but he resisted the urge as she slipped it back out to focus on her clit once more. She was back on the edge within seconds, and the toy slipped from her fingers as she threw her head back in ecstasy and came for the first time that night. Suddenly, Tim was very aware of just how hard he was.

As Anne’s orgasm calmed, she picked the vibrator up, turned it to the “throbbing” setting and returned to stroking her G spot. Her left hand now occupied with working the toy in and out, she started to rub her clit with the right. She was moaning now, very loudly, gasping for breath as if she were drowning, and arching her back against the mattress. 

Tim’s attention was now necessarily returned to his own straining erection. The precome leaking from the tip had created a large wet spot on his underwear, and every time he so much as shifted his weight, the fabric dragged across his dick and made the torture that much harder to bear. Coupled with the incredible sight in front of him, it was becoming too difficult to handle. He closed his eyes to focus on controlling himself, trying his hardest to ignore the sounds his wife was making.

Anne, however, was not impressed. When she happened to glimpse what her husband was doing, she muttered a sound of distinct disapproval and rose from the bed, leaving the toy behind. She stood right in front of the chair and lifted one foot up onto the arm, her body inches from his face. 

“Timothy. Keep your eyes open.”

The struggle was evident on his face as he forced himself to look at her. “God… Anne… No, I- fuuuuuck!” Against his will, he came without even being touched.

Anne tutted in disapproval. “Hmmm. I really had thought you had learned to control yourself better than that. Disappointing. But… perhaps I can use this moment to teach you a lesson.” She gave one of the rope ends a sharp yank, and Tim’s hands fell free. “Get up and go lie down on the bed. Face up.”

Tim slunk over to the bed, feeling something akin to dread. It had been ages- almost twenty years, actually- since he had failed so blatantly at denial, and Anne’s punishments, though fairly gentle then because he was still learning, certainly hadn’t been pleasant. Not only would he have to deal with the shame of making such an amateur mistake, there would be the pain of whatever she had up her sleeve- as well as her thunderous disdain- to pour salt in the wound.

"I was having a very nice time with your present, until your little… whatever-that-was interrupted.” She radiated an iciness usually reserved for those she found particularly impolite or vapid. “So I thought, since you created this problem, that you need to be the one to solve it.” He reached up toward her. “Oh, no, you don’t get to touch. You’ve had your fun for the night. And I will tie you right back up if it’s needed. Perhaps next time you’ll work to hold out a little longer so you can have the privilege.” Tim just nodded and lay his hands by his side, now fairly certain what was coming next.

His suspicions were confirmed when she straddled his neck and grabbed a chunk of his hair. “If you don’t cooperate,” she warned, “believe me, it’s only going to get worse. I would just do as I’m told with a smile on my face, if I were you. Oh, and I almost forgot- you’ve lost your privilege to watch this, too.” The blindfold was over his eyes and tied fast within seconds.

She shifted forward on her knees, shoving her clit into his mouth. “I have only one instruction for you, and that is: give me the best head I’ve ever had.”

Tim didn’t need to be able to see his wife to know she was close; the way her legs tensed the moment his tongue touched her made that more than clear. As he relaxed and started to really get into the job, she rocked her hips against his jaw and moaned her approval. Her hands grasped his waist- she was reaching back to steady herself. 

He sucked on her clit, pulling it a little deeper into his mouth before he started teasing it with his tongue. Anne’s usual sensitivity had been dulled by the intensity of the vibrator, so he was a little firmer than usual. Obviously, she appreciated it, as she ceased her thrusting and just ground down into his mouth, pulling him closer against her with a fist in his hair.

"More. God, please Tim, more!” she demanded, and he complied, slipping his tongue inside her to massage her G spot. Every muscle in her body tightened, and she grabbed the headboard of the bed with a piercing wail. His head now nearly immobilized between her thighs, it was all Tim could do to gently rub his nose against her clit - and she was gone, screaming loudly enough to wake the dead, her climax having overtaken her.

As Anne came down from her high, she relaxed, sitting back on Tim’s chest rather than his face. She untied the blindfold, and as he stared up at her in wonder, his eyes slowly coming back into focus, he was almost sure he heard her murmur, “Yes, we may have to do this again sometime.” 

She lifted herself off of him carefully, stepped down onto the floor, and walked into the bathroom. When she returned, she was wearing a soft flannel nightgown and carrying a damp washcloth. As she cleaned him up, he whispered a question.

"So, did you have a nice birthday, love?”

“Oh, yes. It was wonderful.” Her task finished, she kissed him on the cheek and laid down next to him, nestling her head against his shoulder. “Absolutely wonderful.”


End file.
